


Wishful drinking

by katiebuttercup



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brienne is too good for this terrible terrible world, F/M, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, cinnamon bun too good for this world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-05-14 10:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19271110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiebuttercup/pseuds/katiebuttercup
Summary: Left alone, the tatters of her heart floating around her like the snow, Brienne makes a wish, that she had never sat down at the feast marking their triumphant win over the dead when she wakes her wish has been granted and Brienne is determined not to make the same mistake again.





	1. Chapter 1

The fire was out. Brienne started at the fireplace dispassionately, it melted in and out of focus with her tears. Long years of disappointments of scorn and ridicule hadn’t hardened her like she thought. Jaime’s rejection was just another on a long list that she recited the way Arya had a list of people she wanted to kill. 

When she was feeling particularly masochistic she stared into a looking glass and wonders what she had done wrong in a previous life to be so cursed. Surely there had to be a reason, she tried to pick out a feature not marred by ugliness but could find none. Could she not have been ugly but in a lady’s body, tiny and delicate, or large and pretty, but no, one curse was not enough.

She climbed into bed, curled herself into a ball and thinks that the pain is fleeting, it had to be. Tomorrow would be better. Tonight the wound Jaime had left her was weeping and poisonous. 

She wished fervently that she had been stronger, wished she had retired to her quarters after the battle, not taken Tyrion up on his offer of the drinking game, if she hadn’t she wouldn’t be hurting so much and right at that second all she wanted was peace

I wish 

I wish 

I wish 

She closed her eyes. 

* 

When she woke she wasn’t in bed, people milled about her, and ever faithful Pod was by her side. 

“Ser?” 

She blinked then blinked again. She was in the great hall, lights burning low as people celebrated simply being alive against all odds. And Brienne knew where to look, the Lannister brothers sat together laughing and joking, with their identical smiles and beards they had never looked more alike and Brienne felt her heart lighten despite herself.

“Ser are you well?”

Dear Pod was still worried about her, Brienne tried to get her bearings, by some miracle she had been granted a reprieve, a second chance, a way to make herself learn the lessons of her past. 

Renly had made a fool of her and now Jaime, she would not let it happen again, she could undo it all. 

“I’m sorry Pod,” she said, “I’m feeling unwell,” it wasn’t a huge stretch of the truth. Being back here was overwhelming, she wanted so badly to look at Jaime but she knew if she did she would simply end up in the courtyard sobbing. It would be better this way, she told herself, better for them both, Jaime would certainly be less conflicted when he decided to ride south and she less heartbroken. 

Except of course she still remembered, remembered his touch, the taste of his kiss, the weight of him atop her as they made love a hundred moments that hadn’t happened yet, and if she were successful would never happen. 

“I think I need to return to my room,” she said to Pod, she forced herself to look at the Lannister brothers, to fein surprise at seeing them.

“Why don’t you spend some time with Tyrion and Ser Jaime?” She offered and dear sweet Pod hesitated, caught between his loyalty to her and his desire to be included in the male circle. 

“If you are sure,” Pod said reluctantly. Brienne was already turning away, the pressure in her chest too much to bear.

“Of course, don’t drink too much,”

She tried to keep her relief from showing as she wondered aimlessly back to her rooms, it would all be different now, Jaime would leave as simply a friend, a brother at arms and not as her lover.  
She tried to tell herself it was better. 

She should have known Jaime would try to change her plans without realising it. She was half way to her chambers when he caught up with her. She tried to ignore how the candle light caught in his hair, the way his deep green eyes made her breath catch involuntarily, tried not to remember how his beard felt against her mouth, against her stomach, between her thighs.

“Ser Brienne? Won’t you join us?”

“I’m tired,”. Brienne said shortly, talking was. how he usually exposed her, if she kept her answers short he could not catch a lie she was sure. “The battle...”

“Were you injured?” Jaime asked worriedly. 

“No, simply exhausted. I’m sure there will be plenty of time to drink ourselves into a stupor in the coming days.” He frowned, she cursed his ability to read her so well.

“Brienne...” she knew that tone, the gentle prod, the tease to get her to smile at him, he’d employed it half a hundred times whilst they had been together. Brienne found herself searching his face for a sign of affection, wondering if he had planned to come to her room or if it had been spontaneous at the moment, but what she was looking for really, was a look of affection. Right at that moment he simply looked confused. 

“Brienne is something wrong?” 

Brienne thought about the ghost of his touch in the dark, the whispered words but no promises, of the hope that had flared in her despite herself. She should have wished to forget, she realised,  
but it would be better this way, she told herself, already the memory of them was fading, perhaps with the changed history her memory would fade as well.

No,” Brienne said and tried to mean it. “I am simply tired,”

“Would you like me to walk you to your room?” Jaime asked gallantly, she wasn’t sure why he was being so insistent, why he couldn’t let her go, but of course he didn’t understand her brusqueness, to him they were the same old Brienne and Jaime permanently on the cusp of ifs and maybes. And Brienne could well imagine what would happen if she let him, they would end up back in bed and she heartbroken. No, this was better, to end their history with friendship with both their honour intact.

“You should go back to your brother,” she said, “and make sure Pod doesn’t drink too much,”

Once she had watched him ride away from her but this time she walked away from him.


	2. Chapter 2

She should have known it wouldn’t have been as easy as simply avoiding Jaime that night. She had hoped that the celebration had been the catalyst, the reason he had come to her at all, drunk on wine and being alive. Except now they are rebuilding days and days out and Brienne is waiting for the raven, for the news that will draw Jaime back to his sister, it’s what keeps her strong. She’s being cruel, she knows every time she sees Jaime she is to the point, formal and polite, he’s confused she knows, everyone is, she can see Tyrion’s eyes on her, Podrick’s even Sansa’s but all Brienne can see is Jaime leaving her in that courtyard sobbing her heart out and never looking back.

She won’t go back, she won’t let him hurt her. She knows it’s unfair, this Jaime hasn’t done anything to hurt her yet but Brienne knows it’s lurking. So she maintains a distance even though it hurts even though part of her wants to go to him, to tell him, to hope for a better ending. 

She tells that part of her to shut up quite a lot. 

He corners her after training with Pod, and she has no ready excuse-she’s very bad at lying.

“Have I done something to offend you?” Jaime asks outright. He sounds frustrated. Good. Brienne thinks, remembering the feel of his beard under her fingers as she kissed him, as he pushed her away and told her he didn’t love her. 

“No of course not,” Brienne wishes she had watched the lady Sansa, the young woman was adept at masking emotion she didn’t want people to see, Brienne only had one and it was her own ugly face

It seems you are angry at me and I’d like to know why!” Jaime snaps all pretence at friendliness lost in the snow at their feet. 

“Do you want me to tell you why I’m cross with you?!” Brienne demands, her heart leaping into her throat, anger burning the back of her eyelids

You made love to me that night

No

You slept with me 

And then you were going to leave without saying anything 

And when I confronted you you told me that your sister was all that you cared about-

It’s all on the tip of her tongue but she bites it back, has to remember he hasn’t done any of these things yet. But he would, the smart part of Brienne thinks when her traitorous heart still falls for him. 

“When are you planning to return to your sister,” she says instead. Thinking about Cersei makes her angry rather than sad and she wants to be angry. Jaime just looks confused

“My sister? What does she have to do with anything?”

Everything, Brienne wants to sob, no matter what happens you always go back to her. It wasn’t any easier this time, even though the memories of their night together were getting fainter by the day she could still remember his touch, his smile as they lay together beneath the furs. All his beautiful lies.

“You fullfilled your promise,” Brienne says and if her voice cracks it’s because they are in the courtyard and it’s freezing. “Surely you plan to return to cer-“ she can’t bare to say her name, “your queen.

Jaime tilts his head questionably, he’s still angry but there’s something probing about his gaze now he’s trying to read her. She forces all of her emotions down as far as she can, prays just this once he won’t see her heart flayed open and bare to him. That she loves him still despite it all. 

“Is that what you want? For me to go back to her?”

It feels like a slap. ‘No’ she wants to howl, ‘I just want you to love me, to choose me,” but it’s hopeless, Cersei is Jaime’s North Star, she knows that now, she has to protect herself going forward.

“It doesn’t seem to matter what I want,” she says carefully, “I am in service...”

“To the Stark girls yes, yes I know!” Jaime says caustically, “Gods forbid you want something for yourself, Brienne, Gods forbid you be like the rest of us!”

He turns on his heel, still so graceful and surefooted, an elegant fighter, and strides away as if he can’t be out of her sight quickly enough. 

It feels an awful like deja vu watching him walk away from her. She supposed she should be used to it but it still burned.


	3. Chapter 3

What had he done?

This was the question that plagued Jaime’s mind day and night and he was no closer to getting an answer. He had thought..he had hoped...well battling dead men tended to put your priorities in order and he’d been looking forward to Brienne helping him with that task, possibly in this very bed but that seemed like a far off dream now. 

Brienne was angry and hurt, more of the distrustful maid he had met in his cell all those years ago than the sweet, honourable woman he had had the pleasure to get to know in the intervening time. 

All that time getting to know her on their way back to Kings Landing, loosing his hand, fighting a bear, oathkeeper and armour and secret smiles that assured him that yes, despite it all, he had one true friend in all the world. He had thought they were a team, but perhaps he was wrong. 

He’d been wrong about Cersei so many times, maybe he had been wrong about Brienne, perhaps she still saw him as a relic of the oath she had sworn to Catelyn Stark, perhaps she still loved Renly, more fool her, perhaps he was alone in this mire of knowing that something lingered at the edges of their conversation, their looks, that he had never looked at another the way he had looked at her, a look beyond lust or beauty but of deep abiding trust, and trust was something more precious then all of the gold his family could amass. 

If Catelyn could see him now she would laugh, or perhaps frown, she’d been awfully protective of Brienne in those few precious moments they had together, she had seen Brienne’s worth long before anyone else had. He wondered if he wench even knew the loyalty she inspired in other people, the way she made everyone around her want to try and be better, to do better. Or that should the need ever arise to save her life a score of people would stand to protect her, not least himself but Podrick, Tormund, even little Sansa Stark who was less little nowadays and in somehow truly terrifying in a different way then her little sister was. 

No if Cat had known that letting him go with Brienne would have begun the strangest and most fulfilling relationship in his life he would most like still be chained up in his own shit. 

What had he done?

He flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling, the weight of his covers, the roaring fire barley keep the cold, creeping doubt at bay. If he knew what he’d done he could fix it, he knows he could, he wants to rather desperately. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought that Brienne had been made into one of the dead men, a shade of her former self, but no she is alive and well and seemingly disgusted by the sight of him. 

He can’t think of anything he has done in the interim, had she wished he hadn’t knighted her? She had seemed so happy, a smile so beautiful it had hurt to look at. Perhaps she felt that a knighthood from the kingslayer was a dishonourable thing, but no. He had been there, he had seen the tears in her eyes. He had done this one good thing he would remember forever. A sign of devotion he couldn’t put into words.

Did she want him to go back to Cersei? Their conversation in the courtyard circled through his mind. She’d seemed convinced that he was already half way back to kings landing even as he stood before her. Was that what she feared? That he would be drawn back to his sister? Lying here now, Jaime couldn’t think of a scenario that would see him abandon Brienne for his sister, perhaps for his child’s sake, perhaps to beg Cersei to surrender however unlikely that seemed but he’d come back.

He glanced at his stump, perhaps it was simply that Brienne didn’t want him, a crippled knight with barely any honour to his name. Could it be she felt as Cersei did? That he was somehow less of a man? She had never said so, never hinted that she was displeased with his disability, by his actions sometimes, certainly, but never because of the loss of his hand. She had spent days nursing him back from the brink, tending to his grotesque stump without pity or a hint that it was a chore, even though it had to have been.

So no, it wasn’t his hand that had her keeping her distance. So what could it be? 

He’d cracked and begged Pod for any information but the squire had been just as confused as Jaime about his Lady Knight’s sudden change. So who could he turn to for help? 

The only person with any answers was Brienne, but how could he demand answers when every time he looks at her she flinches. When she looks at me, he thinks, she looks through me, like I’ve already gone. Likes she’s already lost me.

Jaime shoves the bedclothes off, struggling back into his breeches and shirt and boots. It’s past midnight but he can’t sleep, he needs answers and he needs them now.


	4. Chapter 4

Bang 

Bang 

Bang 

He’s making too much noise he knows, it’s past midnight the castle sleeps and he is thumping the flat of his hand against Brienne’s door. He wishes he’d attached his golden hand that would have made even more noise.

Still he barely manages not to hit Brienne in the face when the door unexpectedly opens and he’s face to face with Brienne. 

She looks different, softer, dressed not in armour but in a soft shirt and breeches. She’s far from looking like a lady but she’s far enough from looking like a knight that his breath catches in his throat. 

Jaime pushes past her, swallows deeply when he sees her bed, covers thrown off as she got up, he can see the indent of her head in the pillow, sees the other half of the bed unslept in. It makes him want so badly. It’s probably still warm from her body. He shakes himself, remembers his anger. 

“What are you doing here?” Even her voice is different, full of confusion and sleep. He wants to wake up to that sound for the rest of his life. 

It makes his cross, as if she doesn’t know exactly why he’s here, like it’s not her fault. 

“Just tell me what I’ve done wrong,” he insists, but she’s not looking at him, but at the laces of his shirt at his throat, and something painful is lodged in her throat even as her eyes burn. She wants him, he realises and he’s so greatful that it makes him stupid, makes him reach out for her, to kiss her. It always works with Cersei. But Brienne wrenches her head away and his lips graze her cheek instead of her mouth. She looks like she barely escaped the noose rather than a kiss from a lover.

“What is wrong with you?!” He demands, “What is wrong with me!? Does my stump repulse you? If so you should have said so when you were cleaning vomit from my beard and cleaning my shit....”

“I don’t care about your hand!” Brienne says as she backs away from him. “You know I don’t!”

Who is this woman? Jaime asks himself, so defensive and afraid, shrinking away from him as she had in Harrenhall. She wants him, he knows that, her gaze burns, he can feel it, and yet she holds back. Why? What was the point? They would all be dead soon. Who is this Brienne who runs away from a fight? 

“Is it Tormund who you want in your bed?” 

“Of course not!” Brienne bites back. And then she lies. “I don’t want anyone in my bed,” her eyes are back on his shirt and they burn. She bites her lip. 

“Not even to keep you warm in the night?” Jaime asks, feeling more confidant now he knows she wants him too. “It’s very cold in the north,” 

He kisses her as she opens her mouth to respond, and for one blissful moment there is nothing but her mouth under his, the slick feel of her lips under his, can feel her kiss him back until she physically pushes him away, so hard he stumbles, catches himself on her table to stop from falling on his arse. 

“Get out!” It’s said through gritted teeth, through barely contained tears and Jaime is even more confused than ever. She wants him, he wants her what is he problem? How has he screwed up so badly. He’s never seen Brienne this rattled, this close to tears, he may as well have run her through with oathkeeper with the way she is looking at him. She is holding onto the front of her shirt with a death grip and her large freckled hand trembles with the effort, as if she were trying to keep her heart from escaping her chest. 

“I never took you for a coward,” he snarls, angry and as hard as he’s ever felt in his life. “I never thought you would run away from a fight!”

That, for some reason is the last straw, Brienne, always so good and noble and valiant lobs a cup at his head, he’s still got his reflexes and it thumps uselessly against the wall. They stare at each other.

“Get out!” This time it’s low and angry and full of pain. Part of Jaime wants to go to her, to urge her to let him in, to share the pain. The part of him that knighted her, the part that had relied on her when he lost his hand. His Brienne. Whoever this woman was it wasn’t his sweet, shy, honourable lady knight. He didn’t know who this woman was but he didn’t like her. 

He glances one more time at her messy bed, desire lurches inside him beneath the anger. He still wants her and that makes him crosser than ever.

“Pleasant dreams, wench. I hope they keep you warm, at this rate worms will be the only one to enjoy your Maidenhead”

He slams the door behind him, enjoys the sound that reverberated through the hall, it gave him  
a sick feeling of satisfaction. Let her tend to her own needs, he was sick of it, of her, of everything.

Notes: so Brienne is remembering their night together, the way she had undone his shirt and that’s why she’s so angry because she wants to protect herself but if she let it she would end up in bed with Jaime again and she can’t let herself be weak again


	5. Chapter 5

It takes Brienne a full five minutes before she can prise herself off the spot, her whole body throbbed like a bruise, and yet it was nothing compared to the heartache of watching Jaime leave that night and it’s that knowledge-that this hurt, however painful is paltry in comparison to that night is what gives her strength to move. 

She should tell him, she thinks, not that she thinks for a second he’ll make a different choice, once, she had hoped, but now her eyes were open just as her septa had warned her all those years ago. She wasn’t lovable, she was simply a means to an end, to Tarth, to nobility, to waste time, to be a butt of a joke or a bet, but never to be loved. She understood that now. 

And even if she told him would he believe her? That they had shared a breathless, wonderful moment in time in an altered reality? He would think her mad. She thought she was mad. No, telling Jaime would only muddy the water, she thinks, Jaime was going to return to Cersei one way or another, telling him about their time together would simply be a knife in her gut all over again. All she had to do was wait, wait until Cersei’s pull over Jaime became too strong, until he could no longer bear to be away from the woman he loved and then

And then 

What? 

Well then she’d pick up the shattered parts of her heart and carry on, perhaps this time she would go explore with Arya, or stay with Sansa, or perhaps she would simply leave, leave oathkeeper and her Lannister armour in sansa’s safe keeping and go, become a hedge knight, wonder aimlessly until she was whole again, as alone and friendless as she had been before she met Lady Catelyn. 

Thinking of Lady Catelyn, of that beautiful, strong woman who had fought for her children, who had shown her a woman’s courage was far greater than that of a knight made the sadness well up in her all over again. Perhaps Lady Catelyn would be disappointed in her, surely her daughters had suffered needlessly because she had been too slow or stupid to save them, just as she had been too slow to save their lady mother, or Renly.

She thought of Renly, thought of the way she had loved him, so sweet and uncomplicated they had been, she had only one goal; to serve him, to be with him in whatever capacity he allowed. Looking back it had been such a shallow feeling when compared to how she felt about Jaime. A little girl’s crush compared to a woman’s desire.

Perhaps that was what she had been to Jaime, a shallow, uncomplicated diversion. Could she truly blame Jaime for loving Cersei the way she loved him? 

No, he had said it best “you can’t help who you love” Jaime loved Cersei and Brienne would have to live with that somehow. 

If she could blame Jaime for anything it was for his moment of weakness in following her to her room. That was the most inexplicable part of Brienne, that he had continued to stay in her bed for all those weeks, had it been simply own night perhaps she could have forgiven him, but that was the thing Brienne wasn’t ever going to get over. He had played the game for too long. 

Well it mattered little. In this world she had kept him at bay, kept her armour in check, and perhaps he would even thank her in the end, at least he wouldn’t have leaving her alone and crying on his conscious this time.

It occurs to her as she climbs back into bed, so cold despite the fire, her body still yearning for his despite everything, could she save them? Tyrion had admitted that he had attempted to get Cersei and Jaime out of the city, their bodies in the crypt testimony that they had tried to escape. But if she made Jaime leave sooner could he persuade Cersei to leave too? Could she ensure their survival, and Jaime’s happiness? 

And despite it all she still wanted Jaime to be happy. 

It would be treason, insanely dangerous, Cersei was a monster and power hungry and while she lived their was a chance she would always try to amass a force to take the crown again, but maybe if she could have Jaime and their child, go somewhere quiet and start a new life everyone could be happy.

Everyone but her of course, Brienne thinks distantly. But in the scheme of things, if she could ensure jaime’s happiness, the security of his family, if she could keep Dany from torching the city, thousands of lives would be saved. 

You would still be miserable, a voice inside her warns. She pushes it down, she’s been miserable before, she’s survived it. She can do it again.


	6. Chapter 6

Set after Gendry’s proposal 💔

The sound of metal against metal skidded across the courtyard, whatever circumstance had driven Arya to ask Brienne to continue training together has upset the younger woman enough that Brienne was mostly able to use her superior size and strength to keep her at bay. 

She was upset or angry or both, Brienne could recognise it, she felt it in the depths of her bones, but she thought it was a new feeling for Arya. The girl was a blade honed for battle but right now she was an angry young woman looking for an outlet. Brienne was glad she had chosen her. 

Arya wiped perspiration from her forehead as they broke apart once more, hefting her blade several times as if to test the weight of it in her hand. 

“Why can’t this be enough!?” Arya asks as she dodges Brienne’s attack, “why do they always want to change you?”

Brienne’s first thought was Sansa, but no, however close the sisters had become Arya wouldn’t care about her older sister’s disapproval. 

Gendry then.

“Has Gendry said something...”

Arya sighed, signalling for a break. Brienne went and sat on a barrel next to the dark haired girl.

“He’s been legitimised, he wants me to be his lady”

“Oh,” 

“Oh,” Arya repeated sounding more like a young girl then an assassin. They were all so young, they’d faced so many traumas head on that Brienne almost forgot they were Lady Stark’s beloved little girls.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Arya continued, “but I’ve never lied to him, he knows I don’t want to be a lady, I wouldn’t know where to start. It’s just not me, and I thought he knew that”

Brienne winced, it wasn’t a secret how Gendry doted on her, and she couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised by Arya’s refusal, anyone could see she wasn’t made to be a lady and Gendry was smart enough to know it too and yet he had tried.

Brienne thinks of Jaime. She had wanted so badly to believe that he wanted a new start, to turn over a new leaf, free of Cersei and her influence. She hadn’t expected it to happen so fast, she’d thought that perhaps when the war was over they could maybe find their way to one another but Jaime had come to her room that night and everything had sped up much faster than Brienne had imagined. Or it had, of course here Brienne had changed things enough that Jaime had never come to her. 

Perhaps she was like Gendry, blinding herself to Jaime’s dissatisfaction, so blinded by her own giddy happiness that she’d not thought to ask Jaime what he wanted, she’d made assumptions just like Gendry. 

At least Arya felt guilty about letting Gendry down, Brienne relived Jaime leaving every night in hopes of understanding him, his motivations, but in the end the unpleasant truth of it was; he hadn’t been happy with her, and what he wanted was Cersei.

“At least you told him,” Brienne said feelingly, “you didn’t try to pretend things were okay and then just leave in the middle of the night,” 

Arya watched her. “Did something happen with you and the kingslayer?”

It was testament to her lingering feelings that she said in a cutting tone “don’t call him that,”

To her credit Arya didn’t back down, or repeat the slur. 

“Did something happen between you and Ser Jaime?”

Brienne wanted to laugh. Or sob. It was always a toss up what would come out of her mouth. 

Yes, everything, she wanted to say. “No. Nothing at all.” 

“But he came all the way north,” Arya said.

“To fight the army of the dead. To keep his promise to the living,” she’d repeated it so many times it had become rote like her septa’s old lessons. 

Arya opened her mouth and then closed it.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” she said at last, eyes staring out into the snow, she looked wistful, and Brienne wished she could swap places with Lady Stark, she would do so without hesitation, if she could give these wonderful young women their mother back.

“It’s better to be honest,” Brienne said firmly, “if you drag it out it’ll hurt more, feel more like a betrayal in the long run”

She wasn’t talking about Gendry. The poisonous thoughts she’d had since Jaime’s leaving had grown roots and tormented her. Why hadn’t Jaime just explained that their coupling that first night had been a mistake? Did he think her so weak that she would have wept for him? Thrown herself from the battlements in a fit of womanly grief? Did he know her at all? 

But explanations were reserved for beautiful maiden’s who’s tears dropped prettily down their cheeks and never marred their faces, not mannish she knights whose sobs came out loud and brash. 

You only gave explanations to people you loved, not those used to warm your beds until the need passed. 

“I...I don’t know if I’m capable of love anymore,” Arya said darkly, “I’ve seen too much, done too much. I’m...tainted I suppose you could say.”

“Gendry doesn’t think so,” 

“Gendry is a romantic fool,” Arya replied without heat or rancor. “Like you. He always wanted to be someone. I always just liked him the way he was.”

“You have a list of everyone you want to kill,” Brienne said. “But do you have a list of people you want to live for?”

Arya’s eyes widened in astonishment. “I hadn’t thought about it very much,”

“Maybe you should,” Brienne said.

“I will.” Arya promised. She glanced at Brienne sideways, “or maybe Cersei will just kill us all and save us from having to make all these difficult decisions”

It was a joke so Brienne laughed but this time it sounded far too close to a sob. Arya’s hand briefly touched her back, and then was gone. And then they watched the snow fall.


	7. Chapter 7

The Raven comes exactly when it’s supposed to though Brienne isn’t with Sansa when she tells Jaime, she’s glad, she can’t see the look of pain on his face again, she might do something foolish like try and comfort him.

It’s all too late.

Too late for Jaime to leave Cersei, she’s buried too deep, crept into every crevice of his soul, perhaps if they had met earlier or if he had come with her to find Sansa and not stayed with his sister, so many ifs and maybes. 

But somehow she’s still surprised to see Jaime saddling a horse in the middle of the day, even more surprised to see Arya helping him. The betrayal slides between her shoulder blades. She’d thought she and Arya were friends and now she was helping Jaime abandon them.

“What are you doing?” She asks Arya but it’s Jaime who answers.

“Have you ever run away from a fight?” 

The words cut into her, familiar and insidious and the beginning of the end. 

“Of course you haven’t,” Jaime continues, “and I’m not about to now. How many people are in Kings Landing?”

Brienne can barely keep up, the conversation had veered off into the wilderness, she’s far from solid ground now. 

“I don’t know,”

“Well I do,” Jaime says as he buckles a saddle bag. “And all those people are in danger,”

“Danger?” She repeats stupidly.

Jaime levels her with a searing angry glare, it’s the only way he’s looked at her since the feast. 

“Cersei doesn’t care about those people in kingslanding, she just wants human shields and now your dragon queen is on her way and hell bent on revenge, and I’m not sure innocent people are high on her priority list right now.”

“That’s why we have to go,” Arya says quietly, “between us we can slip into the city and start to get people out. Let the dragon queen and Cersei duel it out,”

“Oh so you’re not going to try and slip into the red keep and kill her yourself?” Jaime asks. Brienne can’t put a name to the tone in his voice.

Arya eyes him levelly, “I told you I’d give you a chance, if you can get Cersei to surrender then I will give you a chance if you can’t....”

“I know,” Jaime’s voice is raw. “Cersei has made her bed I can’t help her anymore. But I need to try,” he looks at Brienne then and her heart stutters. He glances at Arya and the dark haired woman nods and walks away, aimlessly shifting through their supplies and trying not to eavesdrop.

Jaime clears his throat and Brienne braces herself for his diatribe of self hatred. She doesn’t believe it, will never believe it, Jaime is a good man, maybe he would never be hers but he was good. 

“Cersei is pregnant with my child,” he says, “I...I’ve failed my family in so many ways, Brienne. Let my children die because I didn’t see what Cersei had turned into. I close my eyes and I see myrcella dying in my arms, my baby boy throwing himself out of a window out of despair and I want to scream.” He swallows. Brienne’s heart aches, and she wants to cup his face, wants to give him her strength. It doesn’t matter anymore if he loved her or loves her or if he just likes her she wants nothing more than to hold him. 

“I have to try to make Cersei see sense, if I can get her to run for the sake of the child maybe I can get her away, convince her to try to live for the child,”

“You think Cersei will give up power?”

Jaime shrugs, his voice hoarse, “I don’t know, but I know I can’t let her die alone and if anyone should be the one to raise a blade against her it should be me. I helped create this monster I am the one who should end it.”

“You’re not like her!” Brienne says, “you don’t have to die with her,”

Jaime smirks at her then, but it feels desolate, “Have you so little faith in me wench? Have I fallen so far in your estimation that you think even Cersei could beat me?”

“No of course not,” Brienne says, but Cersei didn’t need a blade, her weapons were words and emotions, Brienne had seen how she could wrap Jaime around her finger with barely any effort. 

Jaime takes her hands, she can feel the cold weight of his golden hand on her freezing fingers.

“Brienne I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, how I’ve wronged you, but before I go I want you to know that I..that is to say...knighting you was my greatest accomplishment and honour I hope you know that.” His gaze holds her effortlessly. 

“Your friendship has meant everything to me, and I want you to know that if things could have been different....” his jaw clenches and he seems at war with himself. He takes her hands and raises them  
to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“If I should come back, I need you to know it’s because of you, for you. Say you will be waiting for me, please?”

Brienne’s body feels as if it is carved from ice but suddenly a flush of heat washes over her.

With shaking fingers she unsheathes oathkeeper and hands it to him. 

“Fulfill your oath as I fulfilled mine, and bring it back,”

Jaime glances longingly down at the sword. “It’s yours, it’s always been yours,”

“And it will be mine again when you return,” Brienne says. 

“We should go,” Arya says quietly. 

Jaime hefts the blade and then suddenly he’s kissing her and suddenly all her memories rush back, and she remembers the delicious feel of him in her arms. 

When she watches him ride away this time she does not cry


	8. Chapter 8

When she watches Jaime ride back into Winterfell she knows he has failed to save his sister. His features carved from ice, when Podrick helps him from the saddle he barely acknowledges the man, and when Brienne moves towards him he flinches and instinctively Brienne moves away. The defined hinge of his jaw locked and unhappy. 

“I can’t...” he begins, his words barely audible, obviously struggling and Brienne nods, because she can’t push, could never push when it comes to Jaime and then he nods once, and then he is striding away from her and she wonders how he can feel so far away from her now then when he rode for Kings Landing. 

Arya isn’t far behind, the girl is solemn, her face drawn with sympathy and kindness for Jaime. She pauses to speak to Brienne who was still staring stupidedly after Jaime. 

“He killed her,” Arya says softly, “she was in his arms and he-“

“I don’t want to know,” Brienne interrupts, her heart hurting, bleeding for Jaime and his loss. 

“I didn’t understand what she was to him.” Arya says instead, “she was always just a monster who had killed my family but she was so much more to him.” 

The tightness in Brienne’s chest doesn’t let up even a fraction. She didn’t know what outcome she’d hoped for, but she’d known in her bones it was the end for Cersei, but she’d wanted Jaime to be spared the pain, but had she unwittingly hurt Jaime more by changing the past?

Could he survive without Cersei? Was this a better ending or should she have let Jaime die in cersei’s arms like hed wanted? Would Jaime hate her now for making him kill his twin?

She had no answers. All she could do was stare at the place where Jaime had been and let her heart ache. She felt selfish and cruel, all that heartbreak she had felt that night he had abandoned her was now on Jaime. Once she might have been glad but now the guilt felt suffocating. 

She feels wetness on her cheeks and self concious of Arya’s stare turned away. 

She didn’t ask where Jaime slept, she couldn’t bear knowing. 

* 

When she wakes up it’s pitch black outside and everything is quiet, despite the soothing nothingness and familiar surroundings her heart feels like it’s beating out of her chest. She sits up, taking in the empty room, remembering waking up alone in her bed the night Jaime left. 

She gets up forgoing her long cloak-too many memories, she steals out of the room, heading to the kitchen where she finds some bread and cheese she almost jumps when Sansa appears in the corridor beautiful as the maiden in her white shift, when her eyes fall on the plate she smiles. 

“He is in his old room,” she says, “and I’m sure he will appreciate the food,”

Embarrassment makes Brienne blush, “it’s foolish im making a fool of myself again,” 

It doesn’t matter that Sansa won’t understand, Brienne needs to say it, needs to force some rational thought back into her heart. If she goes to Jaime she’s going to be hurt.

But it doesn’t matter, Jaime is hurt and she can’t abide it for a second. 

She goes to Jaime’s room, knocks and waits but there is no answer and with courage ekeed out from some crevice of her heart she pushes the door open. 

Jaime is sitting on the floor beside his bed, a candle beside him, and Brienne recognises the tortured gaze that he rests upon the light source, remembers him dredging up his worst sins in an attempt to keep her at bay. 

“Jaime?” She asks tentatively, she walks forward before placing the food at his hip. 

“I suppose you are glad,” he says in a dead voice. “Everyone’s glad I’m surprised there’s not a feast to mark the occasion. Cersei Lannister’s death day will probably be a new northern holiday.” His mouth twists with hatred. “And do you want to know the worst part is? I’m glad! There’s a part of me thats glad cersei’s dead! How can i be glad my sister is dead? What does that make me?” The green of his eyes are a dangerous green. “I’m glad and I’m sickened and I....I want her back, Brienne, I want my sister back so much it hurts,” 

Brienne just sits, she has nothing to say; nothing that can ease his pain. “She was a terrible person and I loved her! And I’m the only one who cares that she’s dead. I was the only one who really loved her.” 

“Then it was good that you were with her in the end,” Brienne tries. Jaime’s laugh is a terrifying thing. 

“Yes I’m sure she thought so when I slid the knife into her back whilst I held her. It was always us, no one else mattered just us and now there’s just me”

Brienne winces. She could say Jaime had done is best, she could tell him that Cersei was beyond redemption, that he was a good man, she could tell him everything she had written about him in the white book but it didn’t matter. She didn’t matter in the end. He’d said it flat out. The only thing that mattered was him and cersei. 

She’d ruined everything 

Again 

 

Notes: Jaime is over Cersei but it’s just the shock of actually going through with killing his twin. In the morning things are going to look better in his eyes, he’ll never be over killing Cersei but he realises that he doesn’t love her, that it’s the death of his old life and he has to come to terms with that. But he will. But Brienne may be living with the guilt a lot longer


End file.
